


Don't Overthink It

by Sarah_M



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Season/Series 09-10, Sexual Content, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 05:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15041312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_M/pseuds/Sarah_M
Summary: He hates DC.It’s been a long week, a longer Friday and he’d been trying to wrap up his last meeting early hours ago.He opens the door to his apartment and of course, she’s already waiting for him – she flew in this morning and unlike him, her last meeting actually did manage to finish hours ago.Figures.





	Don't Overthink It

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed - all mistakes are my own. Dipping my toes into fanfic writing, as opposed to just my usual fanfic binge reading.  
> Random thank you to any and all authors who are still writing for this OTP - they still rock my socks and you do too for allowing me to continue in my indulgence.

He hates DC.  
  
It’s been a long week, a longer Friday and he’d been trying to wrap up his last meeting early _hours_ ago.  
  
He opens the door to his apartment and of course, she’s already waiting for him – she flew in this morning and unlike him, her last meeting actually _did_ manage to finish hours ago. Figures.  
  
“I’m sorry, I got held up,” he groans as the door closes behind him.  
She looks relaxed and simply sinful in her dark tight fitting jeans and plain white button down shirt that hugs her form perfectly. She’s sipping on a glass of red wine, leaning against his table which already has dinner served up. “Did you cook?”  
  
“It’s okay,” she says honestly, “And we both know I didn’t cook.”  
  
“Thank God,” he quips and gives her half a smile. She smirks into her glass.

He loosens his tie and undoes a button on his dress jacket. He immediately feels the way she’s watching him, her eyes all lusty peeking over her wine glass. “I’m just going to change and then we can eat,” he makes a move towards the bedroom but she stops him.  
  
“Wait, don’t.” She’s biting her lower lip, hiding behind her glass.  
  
He raises an eyebrow at her, “Carter?”  
  
She lowers her glass and gives him a suggestive once over. “I like you in this.”  
  
He doesn’t say anything at first; just holds her gaze curiously and takes a few slow paces in her direction. “In my dress uniform?” he asks.  
  
“Yes,” she affirms boldly but the way he’s looking at her is making her a little less sure of herself. He takes a quick glance at the mostly full wine bottle and then back at her, and she catches him, “Hey, I saw that.”  
  
“What? We both know when you drink the Shiraz you get a little-”  
  
“You should be careful about where you’re going with the rest of that sentence.”  
  
“Relaxed; I was going to say relaxed.”  
  
“Uh-huh.”  
  
“I was. But back to your thing - that’s much more interesting.”  
  
She gives him a slow and sexy smile, “I like you in your blues; keep them on.”  
  
He’s watching her again, his eyebrows rising impossibly higher. “Well, that’s kind of...” he hesitates, giving her a peculiar kind of look, and suddenly and she knows _exactly_ what he’s going to say and she does _not_ want him to say it. Her stomach clenches in a way that is not at all remotely sexy and she knocks back the last of her wine in one swing to brace herself.

“Don’t say it.”  
  
“But it’s right there.”  
  
“Don’t. Don’t go there, please, I beg you - don’t ruin it.”  
  
“I can’t stop myself.”  
  
“You can; I believe in you.”  
  
“I’m so going to disappoint you.”  
  
“No -”  
  
“It’s kind of weird,” he starts again, speaking over her pleads, “Because, I’m sure your Dad was an air force officer your whole life; which means you spent your impressionable youth seeing your authoritative figure in pretty much this exact outfit-”

She thinks about putting her fingers in her ears. She's certain he would.

“And then of course, I was your actual authoritative figure for eight _long_ years...”

Maybe Thor will beam one of them away?

“Plus - and it’s a delicate point for me but now seems like right time put it out there again - I am much older than you.”

He really is insufferable.

“So what you’re saying here could definitely fall into some really strange, very disturbing Freudian territory."  
  
She closes her eyes and tilts her head back in frustration, “Why, why why would you say that?”  
  
“I know,” he says with a resigned sigh, “I’m disappointed in myself too, because that’s really a self-cock-block - which is just not okay.”  
  
She puts her empty glass down on the table and with a few strides, closes the distance between them. Grabbing hold of his lapel’s she gives him a gentle shake, “I haven’t seen you in weeks, why on earth would you try and ruin the mood?”  
  
He rests his hands low her on her hips, sliding his fingers just under the hem of her shirt to stoke the warm soft skin there. “Believe me, I’m asking myself the same question.”  
  
She shakes her head and sighs at him, then leans up and presses a firm kiss to his mouth. “I find _you_ , very, very sexy in this,” she says against his lips, pulling him by his jacket flush against her, “and despite your total lack of self-restraint just now,” she looks directly into his eyes, her lips brushing over his again, and says lowly and with promise, “I’m definitely going to fuck you while you’re still in it.”  
  
His eyes are wide and a strangled noise escapes his lips. “You are?”  
  
She nods and sucks his lower lip between her teeth, gives him a nip, then soothes it with her tongue.  
  
He groans. “Ah, please, _please_ forgive me,” Why is his mouth talking? Stop. Talking. “But isn’t that a little-”

She cuts him off, “Only when you overthink it the way you’re doing right now.”

She shrugs and pulls back a little. “Jack,” she says seriously, “I have had dozens of sexy, dirty fantasies that involve you and this uniform for quite literally, the entire time I’ve known you. It does it for me; you do it for me. And you’ll have to forgive the cliché but it is true that women really do love a man in uniform. So don’t read into it. Just accept it and move along with me to the fun part of our evening.”  
  
“Dozens?” he smirks. “Wait - hang on; the _entire_ time you’ve known me?”  
  
She grins and gives him one of her most charming smiles. “Yes. And don’t try and tell me that you’ve never had a dirty work related fantasy about me.”  
  
“Me? Carter. That would be seriously… No, this is definitely your thing.”  
  
She drops her voice a little lower, “You’re telling me that you’ve never thought about, I don’t know, ordering me to do something for you? Something _very_ inappropriate...” she says slowly, teasing him with her words while he’s giving her a completely and genuinely surprised look. She’d never tell him but she finds it cute and oh-so endearing. “... I bet you have, and I bet I answer with an eager, _‘yes sir’_ every time...”  
  
He gulps, and right then she knows she’s got him.  
  
He’s in way over his head with her. He’s sure the first time she came on to him that she wasn’t quite this confident. When did that change? “That would be crossing so many lines, I can’t even count them.”  
  
She nods still smirking at him. It’s a powerful feeling, cornering him like this, it’s making him squirm and she probably shouldn’t enjoy it quite so much.  
  
“Go on,” she says sliding her hands down his chest, tugging at his tie, toying with each of his buttons on the way down to his belt buckle, before one hand slips lower to cup him through his pants, “Tell me you haven’t - and I’ll tell you if you’re lying.”  
  
“Uh-uh, that’s a pretty clever lie detector test you’ve got going there.” He groans as she strokes him over his pants. “You know, this really feels like one of those traps you women set us up to fail in, and I’m almost sure I’m going to regret saying this, but-” He sucks in a deep breath, and lets it out slowly as she starts moving her mouth down and then back up his neck, stopping at all the spots that she seems to know will drive him completely nuts, “Yes, I might have, on occasion, indulged in something along those lines.” The admission escapes him and he ends it with a hiss as she squeezes him firmly and tugs at his ear lobe with her teeth. He twitches in her hands.  
  
“And you should definitely tell me all about that.”  
  
“Oh Christ, Sam, that’s-” he clears his throat, “I’m sure I definitely shouldn’t.”  
  
“Come on, I want you to.” She insists, moving one hand to scrape her nails through the short hairs at the back of his neck.  
  
His feels his resolve slip away, “Okay, but only because you’re all turned on and keyed up.”  
  
“Like you don’t want it,” she scoffs.  
  
“Hm,” his tone drops an octave lower and he sounds a little more dark and dangerous, “Alright Colonel…” he looks straight at her, “At ease and on your knees,” he rhymes, giving her a smile.  
  
It's completely intentional - she knows it.  
  
“Oh my God,” she laughs out loud, “I can’t believe you just said that.” She presses her face into his shoulder.  
  
He’s grinning too. “I am sure what you meant to say was: yes sir, right away sir.”  
  
She lifts her face back up to meet his smiling eyes and holds his gaze while she undoes his buckle, pops open the button at the top of his pants and starts to oh-so-slowly unzip his fly. Her eyes are sparkling with what is without a doubt, a lustful mischief, as she says, “Yes, sir, right away, sir."  
  
He can’t help but think that she looks unbelievably sexy right now.  
  
“Please tell me we don’t need to come up with a safe word or anything, because I’m sure I’m on the wrong side on fifty to be having a sex life this adventurous.”  
  
She’s giggling again as she smooths her hands down his body, over his uniform, and drops to her knees in front of him.  
  
He threads his fingers in her hair. “Hey, no giggling.”  
  
_Holy crap._ He loves this woman.  
  
Maybe DC isn’t so bad after all.


End file.
